


ulterior motives

by baths



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baths/pseuds/baths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Equius asks Gamzee to teach him traditional highblood dances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ulterior motives

“Sure, I can teach you, motherfucker,” Gamzee says as he lies lengthways down his relaxation slab. “Anything for a brother.”

“I would be grateful,” you murmur, and incline your head just enough to look deferent. “Feferi’s party is coming up quickly, and it would be neigh-on horrifying to go without the proper knowledge.”

The highblood grins, this huge, sharp, toothy thing that makes you want to kneel in front of him. It also makes you want to punch it off his face and turn him properly strict.

You’re standing in the highblood’s room, in the bit of space free from horns and empty soda bottles. It’s about midnight, and you really should be home by dawn to meet Aurthour for dinner. The highblood promised to teach you some traditional Alternian dances so you wouldn’t embarrass or humiliate yourself at the upcoming party.

“Most important part of this shit is the music, am I right?” he says, getting up, twirling and stumbling around. “ _Music._ Like a motherfucking melody for the great carnival.” He looks up at you. “You know any, brother?”

“I am familiar with some of the more popular songs,” you say.

“How about you get singing, then?” he says, running hands through his messy hair. You want to take a comb to him _so badly._

“I will not,” you say. “The impropriety is too much.” It’s practically banned for landwellers, and you’re almost 100% sure the Dark Carnival only allows official merrymurderers to sing at their events. You couldn’t.

The highblood looks confused, but he doesn’t stop smiling. “Whatever a brother wants. Maybe I can rustle up a tune from back somewhere in the good ol’ think pan.” He closes his eyes and starts swaying back and forth, humming softly to himself.

He’s beautiful. Just close enough to a seadweller that he inherited the strong jaw and streamlined body of royalty, not close enough to get the slitted gills or the fins. Even when he acts weak and indecisive, like now, you can see the highblooded power he hides behind baggy t-shirts and makeup. You wait a full five minutes before interrupting his concentration. “Excuse me, highblood, the lesson...?”

He jerks back to reality, eyes slowly focusing on you. “Of motherfucking course. Sorry about that.” He holds out a hand to you. “Let’s make a miracle.”

You’re this close to reprimanding him for ignoring you when he takes your hand in his. Suddenly all your concentration is focused on not squeezing him too hard and breaking his hand.

“Alright, brother, so first things gotta be first-- hands, they’re gonna be all up on the other guy, yeah?” He places his other hand on your shoulder, shaking you a little.

He doesn’t look like he’s concentrating at all. “Highblood, if you would,” you shift your shoulder away and guide his hand to your hip. “I believe it would be more proper for you to lead.”

“Whatever a brother wants,” He says, gripping your hand and hip with the confidence of a true highblood. Your heart skips a beat.

He starts moving around, taking tiny steps and mumbling to himself, stuff you can’t quite hear. You contemplate scolding him for being so out of it, but when he looks up at you, his hair slipping down over his eyes, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“Does a motherfucker want to count it off?” The highblood slurs.

“I believe the honor should be yours,” you say. “It may be more appropriate to the situation for you to stop asking me so many questions. As the lead, you alone are responsible for the comfort of both parties, and you should act as such.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he says. “Won’t be asking any more questions, I promise.” He starts humming, a little louder, and pulls your hips closer to his, spinning both of you around each other like wrigglers rolling around the lawn ring.

After a few minutes of this, you begin to lose your patience. You have enough knowledge of dancing to know that this isn’t it. “Highblood, excuse my impudence, and you may punish me for it later, but do you actually know what you’re doing?”

Gamzee stops, one hand still clasped around your waist. “You want the cold hard truth, motherfucker?”

“I don’t think I ever asked you to lie, highblood. It would be against my duties and your true nature to hide reality.”

“I don’t know the first motherfuckin thing about dancing, if I was to be saying the truth right now.” He leans his sharp chin on your shoulder, and you concentrate on not twitching and accidentally breaking his neck or anything. “I just wanted to make you happy, brother. Just wanted to spread a little of the magic miracle around, y’know?”

You’re this close to calling him out for his stupid and heinous beliefs before he turns his head and buries his lips in your neck, nibbling on your strong tendons. “Just wanted a motherfucker to pay some casual attention to me, without being so high strung and shit.”

Oh gosh darn it. This got very red very quickly, and you’re not sure if you can handle your strength with his beautiful highblood fangs stuck in your neck. His tongue moves along your throat and you shudder.

“This is quite lewd, highblood,” you manage. “I don’t...I don’t think that--”

“Shh.” He lifts his head up, keeping a firm grip on your hips. “Does a motherfucker want to lay a kiss all up on these lips?” He puckers up, like a character from some lowblood quadrant film. It’s absurd and totally inappropriate.

... _God_ , you want to kiss him. You also want him to take his place above you. “If you order it, I would be pleased to accomodate any of your requests, no matter how...lewd.”

The highblood smiles, looks like he’s not really listening to anything you’re saying. It’s infuriating. “You want me to get all salty on you?” he says. “Well, then, a motherfucker had better kiss me if he wants to, because I am a highblood and am all up and ordering it on him.”

Well, you can’t ignore an order, no matter how poorly worded it is. You lean forward, pressing your lips chastely against his. He grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, and you start to wonder if you’re even going to be able to attend Feferi’s party after all this. Then the highblood’s tongue starts pushing against your lips, and you have more important things to worry about.


End file.
